How To Train Your Bella
by Fairwilloftheangel
Summary: She grew up isolated from the people she belonged to. What would happen if someone decided to interfere on the ongoing cycle and unite both sides-Dragons and Humans? If it comes to the point, what would she choose? Her Life, Her Love or Her Duty?
1. The New Beginning

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or How To Train Your Dragon**

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**CHAPTER ONE**

**The New Beginning**

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"Come on, Twilight! Let's go!" the little girl, not older than seven years old, exclaimed. Her dark brown curls falls pass her shoulders in dire chaos. But she took no notice of this. Her eyes gleamed hope as she continued to plead her dragon friend for the ride of the day, but Twilight, the dragon, refused to go.

The sky was dark and it would most likely rain, but the little girl is stubborn. "Please, Twilight, please, even just for one minute!" the girl cried in desperation. She begged the dragon with her deep doe-like eyes with her lips jutting out to a pout. Twilight looked away, not wanting to give in to her sulking expression.

She wanted to fly, to soar the sky and feel the cold breeze touch her pale ivory skin. She wanted to watch the sun set as they fly just above the sparkling seas. She wanted to skyrocket the clouds and go for the dive, only to pull up when they're close to the ground.

In short, she loves to fly. It was nearly an obsession that she shared with her dear friend. They both love the feeling of adrenaline that fuels profound excitement in their veins. They both love to travel and discover new lands in their simple journeys. And they both love to do it together.

Twilight is a dragon with silky midnight black scales coating his body all over and has big black eyes that sparkle in the rain. He simply adores the little girl ever since his master found her tear-eyed and all alone in the forest. Her dress was muddied and tattered with scattered hints of dried blood in its ragged edges when the old hermit had found her.

She barely escaped the huge cat that had taken away the life of her mother...

On one warm afternoon, a middle-aged woman with her beloved daughter was walking in the heart of the forest. They were having fun picking off fresh berries in the woods when a giant tiger leaped at their midst. It watched their terrified forms with dark ravaged eyes, its body tensed and readied to attack. The child's mother sensed this and pushed her daughter away when the massive beast bounded for the kill.

The tiger tore her clothes and skin apart as its jaw set on snapping her smooth white neck. It instantly killed her and the beast continued to feast on the meal, ignoring the little girl's frantic cries. Soon, the beast got annoyed by the irritating noise and decided to destroy its source. But as it sprang for the little girl, an old man appeared by the bushes and shot separate arrows straight on the creature's heart and head.

It fell and lay unmoving in the blood-filled ground surrounded by scraps of red tainted fabrics. The old man, whose clothes lay on layers with thick animal skins of wild cats and bears, stared at the human carcass on the forest floor. He knew he could do nothing more than to bury the dead body under the soil and pray for its spirit to be in peace.

His eyes then fell on the little girl, who grew quiet and wide-eyed at everything that occurred before her. He noticed her blood stained dress and her ruffled brown hair. The girl was still sobbing at the demise of her mother and at the fright it had caused her to watch it.

"Are you alright little lass?" the old hermit asked as he approached the little girl. She looked up and hugged her knees closer to herself in panic. "Do not be afraid. I won't hurt you," the old man whispered as he enveloped the little girl to his arms and carried her off to his home.

He walked, step by step, cursing when the hem of the girl's dress caught on a stem and ripped its edge. The little girl did not feel anything as she soundly slept in the warmth of his arms. The hermit gazed down on her with pity and wonder. What a wonder it would be to be in the child's presence, he thought.

But on the way the old man's strength has diminished and he released the girl and led her as they walked toward his humble abode. A little wooden hut was to be spotted two kilometers from their site. Its door was polished and chalked with ashes, its roof sturdy and yet feeble against the harsh winds.

The little girl looked at the small house with curiosity. She looked up at the old man, who she noticed to be looking at her, and smiled. She dropped the old hermit's hand and scurried towards the hut. She barely noticed the rock that was on the path until she tripped and scraped her left knee.

She cried at the pain and the old man rushed towards her and checked her injury. He noticed that it was a shallow wound that can be easily healed. "Shhh...Cease your cries, little girl, we will fix your knee in the house. Now, rise and dry your tears, I will not tolerate any crying," he chastised and the girl recoiled to the sound.

"I wanna go home!" the little girl wailed as she whimpered and thrashed on the ground. Her whole small form convulsed as violent sobs and snuffles of tears escaped her. She wanted to go home to her father and see her baby brother. She wanted to show the berries she and her mother had picked just for them, the berries that her mother had died for.

The old hermit sighed and kneeled beside her, rubbing her small back with gentle circles. He gave her a moment to vent her emotions and waited until it ceased into sobs. "Hush, lass, do you want to have a scarred knee forever?" he asked, knowing what the palpable answer to his question.

As guessed, the little girl furiously shook her head and the old man gave a small victorious smile. "Well then stand up and go sit on the bed inside," he ordered as he stood up and helped the girl rise to her feet. "I'll just get some herbs and water," he said and he disappeared in the forest.

The little girl cautiously entered the old wooden door, whose hinges were beginning to fall apart. She took notice of the small wooden table with a vase of wilted flowers as the center piece. She turned towards the right and saw the small oaked bed beside a shelf filled with color-drained books.

Her wondering gaze fell on the beautiful portraits that covered the whole left side of the wall. They were all perfect sketches of the dragons that had attacked her village. Their whole form, wings, scales, muzzle and body, precisely looked like the giant dragons. She shivered at the thought and sat on the edge of the bed.

She shifted uncomfortably feeling the hard texture of the wooden bed and decided to just stand up as she waits. She continued to look at the old man's possessions and noticed how his books contained everything about dragons. Curious, she opened it and read the description under the_Hideous Zippleback_.

**Hideous Zippleback**

_The Hideous Zippleback is one of the largest dragons one may ever encounter. It is unmistakable with its twin heads. The heads are distinct, with separate thoughts and different personalities. Like most dragons, Zipplebacks can fly, but their wings are small and they spend most of their time on the ground. Hideous Zipplebacks are solitary, preferring to hunt alone. They come out after sundown, prowling dark forests for victims. The attack of a Zippleback is like no other. Instead of breathing fire, a Zippleback makes explosions. One head BREATHES gas, and the other head LIGHTS it._

_This two-headed beast is the longest dragon and has the smallest wings and stubbiest legs. But the way it produces fire makes up for any physical drawbacks. While one head shoots out a flammable gas, the other ignites it with a spark-an advantage to create long-distanced attacks._

She dropped the book when she heard a loud sigh from outside. Her eyes flew towards the window and saw the huge black figure that had always haunted her dreams. She gave out a piercing scream and run towards the other corner of the room and sunk to her knees, shivering with fear.

Then he old hermit entered carrying a pail full of fresh water and a pot filled with three different kinds of herbs on both hands. He took in the girl's shaking figure and the dragon peeking from the window and shook his head. "Twilight, do not scare the little girl," the hermit said to the dragon. "Go to bed," he ordered it and it obliged, its face disappearing from the window.

Twilight wondered who and what the little human girl was doing at his master's house as he crawled towards his bed. He had warmed it with his fire and its warmth was comfortable enough to sleep in the dark misty night. He tucked his wings tight and covered his body with his tail and closed his eyes, wondering about the little brown-eyed girl that he just saw...

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**A/N: ****Information about the Hideous Zippleback was from: ****http:/howtotrainyourdragon(dot)wikia(dot)com/wiki/Hideous_Zippleback**


	2. The First Hunt

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or How To Train Your Dragon**

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**CHAPTER TWO**

**The First Hunt**

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"Now, child, do you see this?" the hermit gestured towards at the two weapons on the small wooden table he set up that very morning. The girl, now at the age of ten, nodded and rolled her eyes when she knew her master wasn't looking. It was already a habit that she had been accustomed to ever since she first trained.

"Isabella!" he called again, getting impatient at the girl's stubbornness to learn her lessons.

The child resisted the urge to stick out her tongue and just answered. "It's a wooden stick with a sharp rock tied to its rear and an embossed circular metal used for shielding," the girl answered the words that came straight from the books the old hermit had given her last night. She was very confident that she'll be able to use her knowledge for that day's training.

The old hermit looked pleased with her explanation, but she did not see the agreement she was waiting for. She knew then that her answer was incomplete. "Very good, but you see child, you do not need any of this," said the old man as he chucked the two objects on the ground just in front of her. The spear and shield lay side-by-side after a soft clamor of soil made by the smooth impact.

Bella nodded as she listened very, _very_ carefully, making the old hermit roll his eyes at her. "Dragons are gentle creatures," the old man began as he walked around the girl, who was now watching him with attentive eyes. He could see the seriousness in her once again and then continued. "Some gentler than the others," he said as he gestured towards Twilight, who jerked in his sleep when his name was mentioned but remained asleep nonetheless.

Isabella casted a short glance at the sleeping dragon before facing her master. "I already know that but it doesn't mean that there aren't any other dangerous creatures lurking in the forest," she sullenly pointed out before looking down. She didn't want any reminders.

He did not show his pity for fear of her breaking down, and proceeded to his lesson. "I see, but you wouldn't need a spear or a shield for those animals, you'd survive with this," the old man conjured a small blade from his thick fur coat and carefully handed it towards Bella. She warily accepted it, her eyes lingering at the spear and the shield and dubiously gazed at the miniscule knife. _How could such thing kill huge cats in the forest,_ she doubtfully wondered.

"That will be the only weapon I'll be giving you, do you understand?" said the Hermit as he fixed the loosen string of the spear.

"Yes, master," she reluctantly answered.

The old hermit looked up and noticed her lack of enthusiasm to training. "Very well, your task for today is to hunt your first cat..."

**~:~:~**

There was a boy, probably in the age of twelve, not seemingly lost in the forest but showed fear of the beasts it confines. He was tasked to bring home a carcass of a beast from the jungle since he's still not of age to hunt big and highly dangerous dragons. He shivered at the mere thoughts of the creature's fiery orifice and sharp claws that could kill him in seconds' time. He deemed not to dwell on the topic and move on to his mission.

He decided to just bring home any type of creature he could kill. And if he did not succeed, he could just reclaim his position as an apprentice. That is the thing he was exceptionally good at anyway. He just hoped his father would not be severely disappointed with his lack of dedication in hunting and killing like other Vikings.

Then a small shrub of bush clattered, making him jump in surprise. "Who's there?" the boy frantically called, his voice echoing the seemingly empty forest before him. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as fear pumped into his veins, fuelling his fright. His disarrayed copper hair stood in different directions, covering his little terrified face. His olive green eyes remained wide open and alert, his hands clutched on the small knife inside his vest as he scanned the forest around him.

He took in his surrounding and noticed the eerie silence that made his hair stand on their roots and his neck to release cold sweats. He slowly and warily walked backwards, his face determined to mask his anxiety and terror, but his eyes showed otherwise, for they were still wide and were a clear window to his soul. He took another stepped back and sighed in relief as his back managed to touch the thick trunk of forest tree.

He frantically reached for the sharp blade within his vest and held it in arms length—the way that he was taught how to hold it. His emerald eyes scanned the forestry from every vine to their very roots, but still found nothing. This did not make him complacent though. The feeling of danger was still thick in the air; he could even smell its murkiness.

But then it could all be his imaginations. He is, indeed, known to be a good apprentice to the inventor in their village and his thoughts had travelled far and wide and created innovations that had benefited his fellow villagers.

Then he heard it, the sound of the beast that he was supposed to bring home to his waiting father. The growl and the loud gurgle of pain came from behind him and he spun around. He stopped breathing as his eyes caught the scene before him.

The creature's convulsing form lay on the ground, gurgling and choking on its own blood. He could faintly see the small shimmer from the blade that had severely weakened the beast for it was coated in deep red blood. The tiger continued to toss, reaching for everything it can touch but nothing happened. It weakened and its desire to reach grew feeble...then after a few minutes, it was dead.

There was a dead silence. Only his breathing and something else that cannot be identified were to be heard. He knows that there was someone else with him, just near him though he could not see him or her. _Who could have possibly killed the tiger if it wasn't me,_ he sarcastically thought to himself. He was at ease the moment the beast had ceased breathing. He felt the danger had receded and an aura of peace and calmness surrounded him once again.

"What are you doing here?" a voice suddenly startled him from behind. He spun around and saw a girl wearing a white blood-stained dress and holding a small but incredibly sharp knife. Her expression was unfathomable for him and her unfamiliar face made him less at ease.

"I-I was h-hunting," he answered, silently cursing when he noticed how his voice shook as he spoke.

They both stared at each other cautiously, giving only a short flickering gaze at the lifeless beast on the floor. He figured that she's also hunting seeing as her knife has no ordinary blade. Razor-sharp, slick and now coated with the animal's blood, he shivered with the thought of having that tiny yet deadly weapon anywhere near him.

He looked up immediately when the unknown girl coughed to get back his attention. Somehow he can see her mind working according to how her eyes were looking at him. But there's no way of knowing any specific thoughts. He just shivered at the thought of her killing him. But somehow...he knows she wouldn't do that.

And he was right. She just stared at him, like she was trying to decide on something. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, flickering between him and the dead animal. "Take it then," she finally said as she gestured towards the motionless beast on the forest ground. He froze at first, looking at her, trying to decipher if she's lying or not. Then he realized that he had no means of knowing, seeing as she's a stranger and all.

"T-Thank Y-You," he stuttered as he took in more of his savior's appearance. Her dark mahogany hair was tied in a dirty bun on top her head, her pale ivory skin was flushed with sweat and blood and yet smelled of fresh freesias and strawberries. He wanted to ask her millions of things ranging from how she could have possibly slay the huge tiger to what her name is. But he stood there, motionlessly, with his mouth wide open, not a single word coming out, captivated with her dark brown eyes that were so focused on his.

She gave him a short fleeting nod before she swiftly hacked off the creature's head and run off with it, disappearing out of sight.

"Wait!" he shouted and forced himself to take a step forward and follow her, but then it dawned to him that he doesn't even know where she's heading. It would be incredibly dangerous if he followed her.

He took a glance at the headless creature below him and frowned at the smell of blood. He wondered how the girl knew that he was in need and why she even took the head and left the body. But then he decided to just let it be—for now—and just venture home for the first drops of September rain started to pour. He reached down and carried the heavy carcass on his shoulders and travelled back to the village...

**~:~:~**

She continued to dash through the forest; the head of the creature she just killed was dangling in synchronization with her speed. Soon, she comes out of the confines of the woods and into the plains of her home. "Master C! I completed the task!" she shouted, completely exhilarated from the long run.

The old hermit turned around and raised a brow as his eyes gazed at the creature's head. "Hmm... I suppose I did not expect you to carry the whole heavy thing...do you suppose you passed?" he asked her, looking at her straight in the eyes.

Isabella stayed motionless. She was so sure that she did something wrong.

"Look at your dress, do you suppose I ordered you to wear something white for no reason?" he asked as he gestured towards her blood-stained dress.

She followed his gaze and frowned at the blood sticking on her skin and saturating her dress. "So I shouldn't have gotten it stained?" she guessed, looking irritated at the fact that she failed the test.

"Correct, but other than that you did fine, child," he assured, turning back to lighting his fire once again.

Isabella didn't know what to do other than look at what he's doing, trying to learn as well. He reaches for two of the smooth gray-colored rocks beside him, and grabbed something from the pouch settled beside the rocks. It was some sort of powder and all the hermit did was shower the logs with it. She couldn't contain her amazement when the light suddenly sparked as soon as the old man caused friction with the two rocks while holding it near the powdered edge of the logs.

The old hermit gave a satisfied smile before wiping the powder from his hands with a cloth placed on the stool. He looked up and gave her a questioning look as he noticed her still standing there. "So what am I supposed to do with this?" Isabella asked as she raised the bodiless creature she has been holding.

He flexed his arms and his back, creating a loud cracking sound as she watched him groan in either discomfort or relief. "Bury it by the mound beside the slope in mid-east so it won't smell," the old hermit pointed at the direction of the mound.

He stared at her again, looking at her bloody dress and blood-spattered appearance. "And please take a bath, Isabella. We don't want to scare Twilight once he gets back from his flight," he added, turning back to watch the dancing flames of the fire.

"Okay," she nodded before walking away but paused halfway to the edge of the forest. "Master C?" she asked innocently.

"Yes?" he inquired, still staring at the flames now glowing under the setting sun.

She slowly stepped backward preparing for the consequences of what she's going to say. Just as she reached the edge of the woods, she finally had the courage to speak. "You, too, smell like you haven't washed for centuries." Then she ran.

The old hermit abruptly looked behind him but he only saw her figure disappearing to the forest. Out of his own curiosity, he lifted his sleeves to his face, and he wrinkled his nose at the dreadful stench. He quickly looked away and shook his head, unable to contain his laughter.

Adopting Isabella certainly made his life more interesting.

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**A/N: I hope this chapter is alright for a first meeting.**


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